Feels like another brick hitting the pit of my stomach.

My writing journey is taking its toll. I’m halfway through the second draft of my memoir. Each line a reminder of the pain and shame I went through.

It would help if I knew I was on the right track. It would be a great support to know what an editor or publisher might expect from me at this stage.

And yet I dare not reach out yet. I want my vulnerable story to take clearer shape first, making sure that the painful lessons I learnt will scream loudly at the reader without ambiguity, so that a helping hand can reach out and mean the difference between life and death.